


Hiraeth

by UkieS



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, M/M, Minor Violence, Trauma, until i get more shatt ill write my own, write the backstory you want to see in the world
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-13
Updated: 2018-04-13
Packaged: 2019-04-22 06:13:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14302581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UkieS/pseuds/UkieS
Summary: During his time as a gladiator, Shiro embraces what's most important to him, and what keeps him fighting.





	Hiraeth

**Author's Note:**

> Hiraeth
> 
> \- Homesickness for a home to which you cannot return, or for a home which may have never been  
> \- An intense form of longing or nostalgia, wistfulness  
> \- The grief for the lost places of your past
> 
> (https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/hiraeth)

Shiro missed the days where his biggest problem was handing in his homework late. When he’d wake up in the morning and realized he overslept. When being late to class was the only thing he had to worry about. 

Not anymore though. 

Now he had to worry about his own life. What would happen to him after he woke up. What fight he would be thrown into today. If he would even make it out alive. 

It had been almost daily at this point that he was thrown into the gladiator ring. The Galra loved him. They would flock to the stadium just to see Champion fight. He had looked so small and fragile compared to the monsters they had him fight, yet he took them all down with nothing but a rusty sword and his own wits. He was the most skilled fighter the Galra had ever seen, and in the 10,000 years they spent trying to conquer the universe, that was really saying something. 

It was hell for Shiro though. Every time he left the ring he had a new scar on him. His body ached and begged to stop, but he never got time to rest. The Galra didn't care, they just wanted some entertainment. One thing kept Shiro going, even through the pain. 

Matt.

He kept fighting, and kept winning, with the hope he would be able to see him again. At night, when everything had gone quiet and he was left to his thoughts, he would think about the times he and Matt spent together at the Garrison. The days the two would stay up late together cramming for a test in the morning. The days they would dare each other to do dumb things behind the officer’s backs. Those memories were the only thing that kept Shiro sane during his time as a Galran prisoner. The chance to eventually make it out, to see Matt’s face again. It was enough to make him power through the daily struggle. The last time Shiro saw him, he was laying on the floor, clutching his leg and shaking like a leaf. He was completely speechless. Tears filled his eyes as Shiro smiled at him one last time before being dragged into the ring. 

Shiro wished he could’ve said something meaningful to him. Some kind of well thought out goodbye. All he said was “take care of your father.” He regretted not saying more, especially if that would be the last time they'd see each other. 

He didn't regret sacrificing himself for Matt though. He'll never regret that. He knew immediately Matt would have never survived the first fight. He was so tiny and slender. Shiro felt like he could break him in half with a hard enough hug, and he had zero fighting experience. Shiro had at least been trained in self defense, though defending against another human being and against a hulking alien monster were two different things. Still, Shiro felt he made the right choice. 

He took a deep breath, clearing his mind before stepping out onto the ring once again. Rusty weapon in hand, he began walking towards the center, waiting for his next opponent. He could feel himself sweating already, as his heartbeat accelerated. No matter how many times he entered the ring, it never got any easier. He could never know who he was up against, or even if this would be his last fight. 

The ground shook as his foe stepped out to the other side of the ring. It looked prepared for a battle, it’s eyes filled with a sense of bloodlust. It carried around a massive sword, one that could cut Shiro clean in half with a single swing. Almost every part of its body was covered in some kind of armor, probably intended to keep Shiro from winning. The Galra would throw as many disadvantages as they could at Shiro, it made the fights more interesting to them. While his rivals donned body armor and brand new weapons fresh out of the armory, the most he had gotten was an old beaten sword, which was so old it was barely even sharp. He had nothing protecting himself, just his prisoners uniform, which provided zero defense in a fight. He accepted this, and worked with it, using his size and mobility to his advantage. Shiro readied himself for yet another fight filled with stress and blood. 

The beast stumbled towards him, a powerful resolve with each step. Every monster that entered the ring knew of Champion. They knew what they were going up against. Yet every one of them were determined to take him down. They all wanted the glory that came with being the one to take down the greatest gladiator the Galra had seen. 

But Shiro wouldn’t let them. He refused to let himself fall to them. He had so many things he still wanted to do, so many people he still wanted to see. He would keep fighting and fighting until he got what he wanted. He hoped to be rewarded for his efforts one day, letting his determination carry him day to day. 

Shiro continued to dodge each of his opponent’s swings, some within the narrowest of margins. He would have to figure out its pattern if he wanted to be victorious. Everything had a pattern. Everything had a weakness. The key to fighting was stepping back and waiting, observing. Patience yields focus. 

Shiro took notice of a small, open part of the beasts armor that exposed it’s abdomen. It’s flesh was only exposed when it raised it’s weapon in the air, which, luckily for Shiro, it did often. Now it was all about timing. Waiting for the right moment to strike against it. Shiro was stuck in an endless loop of dodging and positioning himself, but he knew his opportunity would come in due time. 

Suddenly, his foe rushed towards him, much faster than it had all fight. It had been hiding it’s true speed to lower Shiro’s guard, and it worked. Shiro’s eyes widen as he attempted to dodge, but his combatant was too quick. It swung directly at Shiro’s face in the middle of it’s lunge. He had managed to get far enough back to keep it from decapitating him, yet he didn’t avoid the attack completely. 

The end of the Galra’s weapon slashed across the bridge of his nose, creating a deep gash. Blood poured out of his nose, splattering onto the floor. The impact had thrown Shiro off balance. He dropped to the floor, falling unconscious for a moment. His mind raced a mile a minute. He was unable to move, or even open his eyes. He could feel his opponent stumbling towards him, in the same slow pace it had done before. Almost like it was mocking Shiro. 

Shiro couldn’t get his body to move at all, to resist against the monster. All the times he spent fighting with little to no rest had heavily affected his body, to the point where this one injury would be enough to take him down. His entire body gave out at once. The Galran raised it’s weapon, ready to deal the final blow. Ready to become the new Champion. The entire arena grew silent, a stark contrast to the deafening cheering that had been going on only moments before. Shiro accepted his loss. He underestimated his competition, and was going to pay the ultimate price. He gave up. He had nothing left to keep fighting for. He inhaled what he assumed would be his last breath as a final memory flashed across his mind.

Just before leaving for Kerberos, Matt had been a nervous wreck. He was excited, sure, but he couldn’t help being a little anxious. His mouth had dried completely as he stood and stared at their ship. 

“Hey, everyone is nervous on their first trip to space” Shiro said jokingly, walking up behind Matt. This seemed to at least calm his nerves a little bit. Shiro put his arm around his shoulder. He could practically feel how tense Matt was, and he knew he had to do something to help him out. 

Thinking quick, he turned and pulled Matt into an embrace. Matt was a little shocked at first, but soon returned it. Shiro looked down, directly into his eyes, and whispered,

“We’re going to make it back ok. All of us. I promise”

Those words echoed in Shiro’s head, even now.

“I promise” 

He couldn’t die here. He couldn't give in. He had a promise to fulfill, and he refused to let Matt down. Especially after everything he had done so far. 

Shiro felt a new resurgence of strength following the recollection of this promise. His grip around his weapon tightened as he sprung up. The beast had already been preparing to deal the final blow, its arms raised way above its head. This was Shiro’s chance. He darted forward, plunging his weapon into the open spot in the Galra’s armor. Catching it off guard, it stumbled, allowing Shiro to bury his weapon deeper and deeper into it’s flesh until it finally fell. Out of breath, Shiro put a triumphant foot on his opponent’s sword. He began to taste the blood from his new wound as it dripped down, over his lips and onto the floor. The new scar would bare a reminder to him, a reminder of what he’s fighting for. 

Shiro had a new fire in his eyes. Though this was not one of bloodlust. It was a yearning for those he cared about. For those who kept him going, even through the hardest times of his life. He made a promise to someone he loved, and he would never let himself break that promise. From that moment on, it was all he could think about. Each time he fought, each time he had to withstand torture at the Galra’s hands, he always repeated one phrase in his head.

Do it for Matt.


End file.
